Torrent
by Miss Jazz
Summary: She never expected to hear his voice again. But he was there. GSR. Post Living Doll. Loosely based on spoilers for the premiere.


**Torrent**

by Miss Jazz

**Category: **Drama/Angst, GSR

**Spoilers: **Potential spoilers for Season 8. Beware! Although this is my own interpretation of it all.

**Summary: **She never expected to hear his voice again. But he was there. GSR. Post Living Doll. Loosely based on spoilers for the premiere.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned CSI and its characters, Season 8 would have already started! But alas, I do not.

**Author's Note:** Thanks for all the reviews for _Plan A. _I wasn't sure if I was going to write this because I've already written a post-ep for _Living Doll._ But then I realized that two is WAY better than one! I'm thinking about following this up with Grissom's POV, but I don't know if that would ruin it. Any takers?

* * *

She never expected to hear his voice again.

Or feel his gentle hands trailing along her skin, or see his soft blue eyes staring at her–full of love, full of beautiful mysteries that she so loved to uncover.

And yet here he was, his fuzzy face taking form through her heavy, wet eyelashes. She blinked, and blinked again, and wondered how her heart could still be beating. Her life had disappeared just as fast as she was now blinking, just as fast as the water pooled around her, chilling her to the bone. And here, now–just as quickly–her whole life came surging back to her.

His voice. His touch. His eyes.

He was there.

And so was she.

"Gr–Griss?" Her voice was rough, obstructed, full of pain. She wanted to cough but even the thought of that hurt, so she made a pathetic attempt at clearing her throat. "Grissss..." she whispered, even less noise coming out this time. It wasn't working.

But he seemed to hear, to understand, because his face was now even closer to her own, a few of his tears falling, splashing onto her cheeks, light as rain.

He was crying.

Good God. What had she done to him?

Car. No chance of survival. Water. Water. Water...

She remembered it clearly.

But how she'd gotten to this point was unclear. Somewhere in the grand scheme of the nightmare, she'd lost some time.

She wasn't able to contemplate it any further, because Grissom was everywhere now, dancing furiously above her, searching and searching for something. Through a thick haze, she felt his hands again–his warm touch heating her cold, wet skin–as he searched. What was he looking for?

"I'm here, Sara. I'm here now," he said to her, his fingers now searching her head, prodding at her neck. "I've got you. You're okay."

She couldn't agree with him. "...Cold," she whimpered.

But he'd already covered her with one of his shirts. And with someone else's shirt too.

Grissom was saying something about hypothermia as her eyes–only half-open and heavy– wandered to the left. "Ni–Nick."

The Texan touched her hand, taking it carefully into his own. "Yeah...yeah, Sar. I'm here too."

As soon as he spoke, an old conversation came flooding back into her mind, making itself more distinct than reality. She heaved in a breath, shuddering at the pain it brought.

"...s'my day, Nicky..."

She felt the grip on her fingers tighten. And she felt Grissom's hands again, gentle fingers, resting on her neck. Another tear splashed onto her cheek. Or maybe it was the rain this time.

Nick was shaking his head now, so furiously that it made her dizzy. "No, Sara. It's not your day." He moved until he was above her–just like Grissom–and placed his palm on her cheek. "You hear me?" he called to her firmly. "It's not."

Again, she couldn't agree. And she was about tell him thanks but to get off his high horse because it wasn't up to him, when he disappeared.

For the first time since she'd opened her eyes and realized that she was somehow alive, she saw trees. Tall trees, looming above her, branches weaving into each other, reaching high into the sky. The _blue_ sky.

It wasn't raining.

Grissom was yelling, calling to someone, some_one_ who was running for some_thing._ He thought he was going to lose her.

Sadness filled her heart, and all she wanted to do was sit up, wrap her arms around him and turn back time. If they could just somehow go back to the previous day then she would be wrapped around him instead of wrapped around a tree.

She felt it now...the pain. And she could see it now...the way her limbs were splayed, mirroring the branches above. She'd ended up under the tree, broken. Somehow.

Somehow.

Water. Water. Water...

She'd been carried away from the car, rushed through mud and trees and what she'd thought was her last moments in a torrent of water. This is where she'd ended up.

"Oh God," she whimpered. "It hurts. Griss...Grissom?"

"Keep very still," came his voice, gentle, loving, and so hoarse she could barely stand it. "Nick's bringing the ambulance. Just hold on and don't move. You _can't_ move."

She shuddered, moving only slightly and crying out in agony. Grissom's hands were holding her head and neck now, keeping her still. But all she wanted was for him to hold all of her, no matter how much pain it caused.

She bit her lip to keep all the pain in, but a desperate "I...I need you,"escaped.

And like the water that swept her away, he broke.

His blue eyes filled. His hands trembled. His head dropped momentarily. When it came up again, he was lost.

"I need _you_," he cried, through clenched teeth, through a now steady flow of tears. "You can't leave me, Sara. I can't do this without you."

It hurt to cry. It hurt. It _hurt._

But she couldn't stop.

"I...don't...want to...go," she gasped out. "Please...please don't...let...me go."

He lay down next to her then, uttering the word 'no' frantically, until his cheek rested against her chest. "I'm right here with you," he said, being near her in the only way he could. "I'm not letting you go."

"..C..closer," she begged, her eyes slowly sliding shut. "I need...you."

His fingers ran through her hair; his low cries echoing in the silence. "Stay with me, stay with me..."

She opened her eyes for him, brown eyes fighting to focus on his face, one arm–fingers outstretched–moving to touch his hair. He stopped her with a shaking hand, begging her to stay still, to stay awake, to keep breathing. When she couldn't answer, he started begging some higher power to let her know how much he _wanted_ to take her into his arms right then. She heard every word through the fog that would steal her away.

Her eyes were almost closed again, her whole body going numb. She could only manage one word: "Please..." she whispered, even though she knew he couldn't do any more to help her. She wanted so much for him to move her, to let her curl up against him, her head tucked safely between his chin and his shoulder. She wanted to leave him like that–if she had to leave him at all. She opened her mouth to tell him that, but no words came.

Instead, darkness enveloped her.

Voices surrounded her.

And warmth.

So much warmth.

It filled her completely until she was swept away again–not by water, but by something so powerful that even mountains would move in its wake. It took her away from everything, making time obsolete, undefinable. She was tumbling, tumbling away.

She never expected to open her eyes again.

But a few days later, with Grissom at her bedside...she did.


End file.
